


Five Feet apart AU

by 69gloomiest_ghost69



Category: McLennon - Fandom, The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Help plz, M/M, aaaa idk, five feet apart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29108421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/69gloomiest_ghost69/pseuds/69gloomiest_ghost69
Summary: hi y'all these aren't my characters, and the plot is based off the book five feet apart. so I dont own the characters or the plot. these events are completely fictional.
Relationships: George Harrison & Ringo Starr, John Lennon & Paul McCartney, John Lennon/Paul McCartney, McLennon - Relationship, starrison - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Five Feet apart AU

**Author's Note:**

> hi y'all these aren't my characters, and the plot is based off the book five feet apart. so I dont own the characters or the plot. these events are completely fictional.

John's eyes stayed fixed on the floor as he entered his new room, pretty much identical to his old one: white walls, white ceiling, tiny bed, and that almost comforting beeping that had become so familiar to him. He didn’t even bother letting his eyes rake over the room, everything was the same. No trace of personality on the walls, of evidence another human being had called this their home before him. John didnt plan to leave any evidence of himself there either. 

It was temporary.

Just until he got over this god awful infection that plagued his already barley functioning lungs. There wasn’t any point in arguing, he laid back and let himself be dragged from specialist to specialist, let himself be poked and prodded, let himself be fed medication with promises it would make him feel better. A fiery resistance had awoken in him at some point, making him refuse his treatment, make his aunts life hell for letting him live like this: tubes shoved up his nose and pills down his throat. His blatant defiance had ultimatley caused the infection and led him here, lightyears away from all his friends, in a new hospital. A new hospital that was going to do the same old shit: stick a tube in his nose, give him endless pills, shitty food, furrow their brows and whisper under their breath about why he wasn’t improving. 

John had considered that his own brain was the reason his lungs were fucked. He didn’t hope to get better because he knew he wouldn’t. If he’d payed any mind to the endless ‘power of positive thinking’ presentations, perhaps in some reality he’d be better by now. But John wasn’t stupid, he knew well enough that human bodies don’t work that way. No amount of wishing, hoping or praying could fix him. 

The harsh reality of that hit him when Josie, the little girl that lived in his previous hospital, died in her sleep. She was the brightest person he’d ever known, smiling and laughing when the pain was at its mildest. (Sometimes even when it wasn’t). She had wanted to live, she had deserved to live, her zest for life was contagious, and yet, she’d died. Josie had taken a special liking to John when she arrived that the hospital, occasionally sticking her little bald head into johns room and giggling like a little devil when he made faces at her. She’d shy away behind the door when John waved her in, motioning for her to come and sit with him. This would usually result in the 6 year old bursting into laughter and scampering off to wherever she came from. Occasionally though, she would come and sit with John, approaching slowly, a shy smile on her face. John would raise an eyebrow, which always made her dissolve into fits of giggles, and then show her caricatures he’d drawn of the hospital staff. There were times when the little girl was too weak to lift a finger, at those times John would visit her room, watching as her eyes lit up in his presence, eager to see what drawing he’d brought her. But in the end, no amount of smiling or laughing could save her, and he was certain it couldn’t save him either. Josie had died clutching her bedsheets, eyes firmly closed and limbs strewn around the bed, her frail little body resembling that of a broken doll. Upon waking up, a nurse told him the news, speaking rather coldly despite her eyes, which were shining with tears. John had felt sick then, sicker than he’d ever felt in his whole fucking sick life. He’d barged past the nurse and out into the hospital hallways, practically running until he was standing at the end of her hallway. Josies family were there, holding each other and trying to contain sobs, John just stared in disbelief. After a period of time, he felt himself turning on his heel and walking away, not quite aware of where he was going. It was only when he found himself in the privacy of his bathroom, he let himself cry. He cried harder than he’d ever done. John cried because she deserved to live, he cried because it should’ve been him, he cried because he could feel that drive to get better dying inside of him. John cried because oh it hurt. It hurt so fucking bad.

Now he was here, sitting in his new home of sorts and waiting for his aunt Mimi to arrive with his bags. Running a hand through his auburn hair he stood up and walked over to the tiny window, discarding his tubes and oxygen tank in the process. The view from his window was uninteresting, trees, road, cars and people. Nothing new, nothing exiting, not that he’d thought there would be. This was exactly what John had been expecting, he hated to admit he felt a little relieved, John had trouble adjusting to new surroundings, so he’d been relying on the uniformity between most hospitals. 

A flustered Mimi entered his room, dragging his suitcase behind her while simultaneously having a conversation with a nurse that followed closely behind her. John looked at the two of them and already felt exhausted.

“John, this is nurse Martin okay? get over here boy, shake his hand.” John reluctantly walked over to the man, sticking out his hand and studying the tall man as he did so. 

Grey hair, grey eyes, probably grey fucking personality. 

“Didn’t know men could be nurses, did they hafta put yeh in with the birds cos yeh failed yer doctors degree or summat?” John asked, faking a dead serious face, wanting to seem genuinely curious. He held back a chuckle when he saw the mans face heat up instantly and couldn’t hold in a grin when he saw Mimis disgusted face.

“John Winston Lennon, apologise immediately. Im so sorry Mr Martin, my nephew is a right trouble maker.”

John knew what was good for him so he obliged. “Im so very sorry doc- oh I mean nuuuuurse.” He crooned, dragging out the ‘u’ sound for as long as he deemed fit. “However can I make it up to you?” 

John pretended not to see Mimis not-so-subtle eyeroll, and batted his eyelids up at the rather embarrassed nurse. 

“Well now John, you can make it up to me by sticking to your schedule here.” Nurse Martin said, pushing a piece of laminated paper into Johns hands. The boy cast his amber eyes over it briefly before fixing them back on the taller man, a mischievous glint undeniably present in them.

“Is this what they have you do, sir nurse? Laminate schedules?” John already hated it here, he had no intention of hiding that fact.

Much to Johns annoyance, the male nurse turned to mimi, giving him no evidence he’d even heard what John said. 

“Ill be around later with his meds for today, see you then John.” Mr Martin said giving them both a smile before exiting the room in a hurry. 

Mimi turned to a blank faced John, with a scowl on her face. “You are going to be the death of me, boy.”

-

Once Mimi had left and meds had been taken without much complaint. John felt restlessness gnawing at him, biting his legs and sending waves of pins and needles shooting through his limbs. He needed to move around, or else boredom would kill him before his actual illness did. John sighed and sat up, stretching his legs and groaning at the painful sensation, he’d been there less than one day and he was already losing his mind. Getting himself the rest of the way up was easier than expected, considering his lack of motivation to do literally anything. 

He retrieved his oxygen tank, shoved the tube into his nose, pulling the remaining length behind both of his ears and then walked over to the mirror in the corner of the room. John had wondered why they had a mirror in a hospital room, it was literally a deathbed for some people and others walked around with plague like rashes and deformities. He didnt see why people cared what they looked like, especially in a fucking hospital. There was nobody to impress as far as he was concerned.

Gazing at himself for a moment, John was surprised at how pale he looked, his skin only having been exposed to sunlight for brief moments over the past few months. He grazed his fingers along his cheeks, much bonier than they ever used to be, small freckles so very faint on his skin. He hated his refection in that moment and found himself ripping his glasses from his face to escape it, he didn't care if that meant the world was a little blurry round the edges. John set the glasses down on the table and sighed, the emptiness of the moment suddenly filling him up. He was tired, hopeless and maybe a little overdramatic (he could finally admit that to himself). John chuckled at the thought and pulled on his black face mask, a little relieved it covered some of his face (the only thing it was good for in his opinion.) His footsteps echoed in his room as he trudged out into the hospital hallways, fighting off deja vu and trying, for the first time, to forget the familiarity of it all. 

Having absolutely no idea where he was and paying no attention to any of the signs in the hospital, unsurprisingly did not work in his favour. John found himself on a practically abandoned floor, following the sound of muffled guitar playing as he dragged his oxygen along with him like a suitcase. He stopped when he came to a seemingly vacant waiting room looking around for the source of the music. Only after inching a little further inside and craning his head around the door frame making the cold metal press uncomfortably into his neck, he found it. 

There was a boy, hunched over a guitar, sitting in the middle of the carpeted floor. His inky black hair was slightly curly and falling into his eyes as he quickly scribbled something into a notebook lying infront of him. The mystery boy resumed his playing, applying the minor changes he made and humming along harmoniously. John watched, entranced by the boy and his music, it was beautiful. The song had a melancholy feeling to it, one that John could relate to quite easily. 

it was only then, it occurred to him that the boy was also wearing a face mask, a baby blue one that made his hair look like coals on a fire. Perhaps this magical mystery boy could relate to him too? it was then that johns clumsy hands decided to drop his oxygen tank, causing an obnoxious bang and effectively ruining the serenity of the moment. Mystery boy whirled around, hazel eyes instantly focussing on John who was red faced and struggling to pick up his shit. 

John felt the eyes on him and went still, meeting them and smiling apologetically. 

“Who the hell are you?” Mystery boy asked, eyebrows furrowing and words slightly muffled by his mask. 

despite the embarrassing accident, John had a talent for being quick witted, and wasn’t about to let it go to waste. “Nice to meet you too love.” 

The boy just glared, john felt like he was under intense scrutiny as the hazel eyes bore into him. mystery boy pulled off his mask, giving John a good look at the rest of his face. Long eyelashes, hazel doe eyes, ivory skin, perfectly shaped eyebrows and pink lips that looked like rosebuds all adorned the boy's face. John felt his breath catch in his throat at the beauty of this random human being. The boy, like him, also had tubes inserted into each of his nostrils and he somehow made it look... not horrible? Good? John stared a moment longer before putting his confident facade back up. 

“Im John, just got moved here.” 

The boy just kept staring at him, an unreadable expression plastered on his face. “Cool.” Is all he said, then he was picking up his guitar and notebook, walking over to his nearest exit, laying his hand on the doorknob and turning to face John. The boy looked as if he was going to say something, but instead turned and walked out the door, shutting it loudly behind him.

John couldn’t help but smile, that was the most interesting interaction he’d had all day. He was intrigued by this seemingly indifferent mystery boy, he wanted to find out more, maybe even get to know him. That’s more than he could say for most people. For the first time in months, he felt something crackle to life within him, it was minuscule at most, but it was there nonetheless.

“Hey!” He called out, determined to capture the boy’s interest, as he’d captured johns so effortlessly. “Ya didnt tell me yer name.” He panted as he raced to catch up, a genuine smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> please comment, I always love feedback! :))


End file.
